Tonight I wanna cry
by ShotgunOpera
Summary: Soda fic, his thoughts and feelings during the week where his life just seemed to fall apart.


Disclaimer: I don't own the Outsiders, that honor goes to Ms. Hinton. I also don't own the song "Tonight I wanna cry." It belongs to the wonderful Keith Urban, who is one of this punk's guilty pleasures. :)

A/N: As always, I want to acknowledge my beta, RileysMomma. You always have a knack for picking up the little details that I overlook. :) Thank you so much.

* * *

Steve was quiet as he dropped me off at home after visiting Sandy. Her sharp words still ran around in my head, no matter how hard I tried to forget them. I just couldn't believe she would do something like that. We were so happy; hell, we were planning on getting married! Doing it now as opposed to later shouldn't make much of a difference, at least that's what I'd thought. I had no clue how we would have made it work, but that's what you did for people you love, you made it work. We were two kids in love … when did that change? "Hey, man, do you need anything else?" Steve asked, breaking through my thoughts.

I grabbed the six-pack he had already obtained for me from his house, and shook my head. "I'll be ok, just need some time to myself."

In reality, I just didn't want anyone to see me break down.

_I thought that bein' strong meant never losin' your self-control._

Darry wasn't home yet, so I quickly downed two of the beers as I ate some cereal in the kitchen. I didn't usually drink, but right now I just didn't want to feel anything, and drinking was the only thing I could think of to numb the pain. I barely even tasted the Cheerios in between gulps of PBR.

After leaving the bowl and spoon in the sink, I stumbled into my bedroom – _our_ bedroom – almost half-expecting to see Pony sitting at the desk. It was empty, though; it had been for how many days now? I couldn't even remember. It seemed like yesterday he ran off, but at the same time it seemed like forever since I'd felt his warm body next to mine at night.

I blinked back tears, swallowing the lump that was rising in my throat. _Crying won't bring him back. It won't bring anyone back. Not Dad or Mamma or Ponyboy or Sandy,_ I told myself, but the other part of me didn't want to listen. That other part of me wanted to collapse on the bed, bury my face in his pillow, and sob until I was hoarse.

I compromised by sitting on the edge of the bed, my hands shaking from my attempts to keep the sobs in. I fished the half-empty pack of cigarettes out of my shirt pocket and shook one out, but I was so upset I couldn't even light it.

Frustrated, I threw the weed to the floor, not caring where it ended up. Drinking was easier, anyway, so I cracked another beer. I almost gagged at the bitter taste, but I forced it down. Soon, it was empty, and I set it on the floor as I reached for another one. Somehow, the beer never lasted that long; soon after I would open a bottle it would be completely drained. Curious how that happened.

My head started to swim a little. How many had I drunk, now? I'd had a six-pack when I came in, and there was one left … fuck it, Pony was the smart one, I wasn't; he could've done the math. Instead, I just sat there, staring at the remaining bottle of Pabst Blue Ribbon like it was my salvation. Picking it up, I just held it in my hand for a while before I opened it.

_But I'm just drunk enough to let go of my pain._

_To hell with my pride_

_Let it fall like rain,_

_From my eyes._

I couldn't stop the tears now. It was like a dam broke, but I no longer cared. I was within the confines of my own room, I didn't have to be tough for anybody, not even myself. Tears mixed with beer as a few dropped into the bottle, but I couldn't notice a difference in taste. I was too far gone to care, anyway.

My parents were gone. Pony was gone. Now Sandy was gone. Darry was stressed enough as it was, he didn't need my problems on top of it. I was alone, drifting away on a sea of misery like a boat without a sail.

I brought the bottle to my lips only to discover that the beer inside of it had disappeared again. Disgusted, I threw it to the ground, satisfied to hear the sharp crack of glass hitting wood. My stomach was starting to feel nauseous, and I swallowed hard. Turning around, I curled up on the bed, pulling Ponyboy's pillow close to me. A deep sob escaped me before I pressed the pillow to my face.

_Tonight I wanna cry._


End file.
